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Eric B. Is President Lyrics
I came in the door, i said it before
I never let the mic magnetize me no more
But it's biting me, fighting me, inviting me to rhyme
I can't hold it back, I'm looking for the line,
Taking off my coat, clearing my throat
My rhyme will be kicking it until I hit my last note
My mind'll range to find all kinds of ideas
Self-esteem makes it seem like a thought took years to build
But still say a rhyme after the next one
Prepared, never scared, I'll just bless one
And you know that I'm the soloist
So Eric B, make 'em clap to this
I don't bug out or chill or be acting ill
No tricks in '86, it's time to build
Eric B easy on the cut, no mistakes allowed
Cuz to me, MC means move the crowd
I made it easy to dance to this
But can you detect what's coming next from the flex of the wrist
Saying indeed that I precede cuz my man made a mix
If he bleed he won't need no band-aid to fix
If they can get some around until there's no rhymes left
I hurry up because the cut will make 'em bleed to death
But he's kicking it because it ain't no half stepping
The party is live, the rhyme can't be kept in-
Side, it needs erupting just like a volcano
It ain't the everyday style of the same old rhyme
Because I'm better then the rest of them
Eric B is on the cut and my name is Rakim
Go get a girl and get soft and warm,
Don't get excited, you've been invited to a quiet storm
But now it's out of hand cuz you told me you hate me
And then you ask what have I done lately
First you said all you want is love and affection
Let me be your angel and I'll be your protection
Take you out, buy you all kinds of things
I must of got you too hot and burned off your wings
You caught an attitude, you need food to eat up
I'm scheming like I'm dreaming on a couch wit my feet up
You scream I'm lazy, you must be crazy
Thought I was a donut, you tried to glaze me
Funky...
I never let the mic magnetize me no more
But it's biting me, fighting me, inviting me to rhyme
I can't hold it back, I'm looking for the line,
Taking off my coat, clearing my throat
My rhyme will be kicking it until I hit my last note
My mind'll range to find all kinds of ideas
Self-esteem makes it seem like a thought took years to build
But still say a rhyme after the next one
Prepared, never scared, I'll just bless one
And you know that I'm the soloist
So Eric B, make 'em clap to this
No tricks in '86, it's time to build
Eric B easy on the cut, no mistakes allowed
Cuz to me, MC means move the crowd
I made it easy to dance to this
But can you detect what's coming next from the flex of the wrist
Saying indeed that I precede cuz my man made a mix
If he bleed he won't need no band-aid to fix
If they can get some around until there's no rhymes left
I hurry up because the cut will make 'em bleed to death
But he's kicking it because it ain't no half stepping
The party is live, the rhyme can't be kept in-
Side, it needs erupting just like a volcano
It ain't the everyday style of the same old rhyme
Because I'm better then the rest of them
Eric B is on the cut and my name is Rakim
Don't get excited, you've been invited to a quiet storm
But now it's out of hand cuz you told me you hate me
And then you ask what have I done lately
First you said all you want is love and affection
Let me be your angel and I'll be your protection
Take you out, buy you all kinds of things
I must of got you too hot and burned off your wings
You caught an attitude, you need food to eat up
I'm scheming like I'm dreaming on a couch wit my feet up
You scream I'm lazy, you must be crazy
Thought I was a donut, you tried to glaze me
Song Info
Submitted by
soccrfwd13 On Jun 13, 2004
More Eric B. & Rakim
Paid In Full
Microphone Fiend
Don't Sweat The Technique
I Know You Got Soul
Eric B Is On The Cut
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
A young man gets invited to a party with his girlfriend. But soon they get into a fight over money, and the man goes to the party angry.
At the time he isn't a professional rapper, but when he gets to the party he's drawn to the microphone. He takes off his coat and starts rapping. Even though he hasn't prepared ahead of time, each line he says seems as if it took years to write. He's rhyming in a style much more advanced than other rappers in the year 1986. The crowd goes crazy.
The rapper asks the DJ not to make any mistakes. The DJ explains that he's playing dance music, and he asks the rapper if he'll still be able to rap when he starts scratching, etc. The rapper replies "indeed" and keeps rapping. Then the DJ and the rapper agree to form "Erik B and Rakim".
Then Rakim raps about the fight with his girlfriend that started this whole process.